Abruptly, she turned back. “Look, why don’t you be hostess?”
“Don’t be silly, Em. I couldn’t possibly. It’s your House, your party.
People will expect you to be hostess. No ... you’ll get through, trust me.
But I’ll be there if you want, at your elbow, to take the pressure off. They can be really quite obnoxious, some of these First Level wives. Real Grade-A bitches. But we’ll cope, neh? We’re pretty tough bitches ourselves when it comes down to it. Am-er-ican bitches . . .” Mary laughed. “What would I do without you?” “You’d survive. Now, tell me who’s coming. You sent out all the invitations on the list I compiled?”
She nodded.
“Okay ... so who replied?”
“Everyone.”
“Everyone?” Gloria’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t get everyone to a party in the Above. Not here, anyway. There are always lots of celebrations going on, especially the night before a tournament. You always get apologies.”
“Well, I didn’t. They’re all coming. All eight hundred and sixty-four of them.”
“Eight hundred and ...” Gloria gasped. “Aiya! You’ll never fit them all in ... And then, well. . . you’ll need extra waiters, another five, six cooks at least, more wine. You’ll need—“ Mary put her hand on her friends arm. “It’s all done. Wine, waiters, and an extra dozen cooks!”
Gloria stared at her, her hazel eyes wide with disbelief. “Everyone?
You’re sure?
“Everyone.”
“Then the gods help us, Mary Lever, but you’re there. Base One, first time out. Queen of the Above. Eldest Daughter . . . And tonight”— she smiled, her eyes bright with pride, then leaned close and kissed Mary’s cheek—“tonight they come to pay court to you.”
the visit had been unannounced. The first Pei K’ung knew of it was when her father came to her rooms and told her to get dressed, and fast. “Who is it?” she had asked, and when he’d told her she had stood there several moments in total disbelief. Why should the great T’ang visit her? Her father, certainly, but her?
She had dressed simply, modestly, as was her way, then had gone down and presented herself to him, kneeling in the doorway and pressing her forehead once, twice, a third time, against the cold marble. He had come across, standing over her, and told her to get up. Then, for what seemed a long, long time, he had studied her. “She’ll do,” he’d said finally, with an abruptness she found strange, then he had turned and walked across to where his Chancellor, Nan Ho, was waiting for him.
“Pei Ro-hen,” he’d said, addressing her elderly father, “would you leave us for a moment? I have something to say to your daughter.” Her father had bowed low and left, and she had waited, not knowing what to expect. Thirty-eight years old, she had waited. A plain girl, her mother had always said when she was still alive. No wonder she had never married. Not like her sisters, who were—and this was always mentioned—pretty girls.
“Look at me,” he’d said, in a tone of command that brooked no argument.
And she had looked.
He was a handsome man, fifteen years her junior. A powerful man, too, of course, and that radiated from him. Strangely, she had found herself smiling.
“Why do you smile?” he asked, his eyes curious. To be honest, she had not really been sure just why she’d smiled, simply that something in the situation had struck her as absurd. “I suppose, Chieh Hsia, it is because you have come to marry me.”
“Have I?” And then he’d laughed. “Well, I guess that much is obvious. But
we must be clear from the start just what it is 1 want from you as a
wife.”
He had paused, putting a gloved hand to his beardless chin as if in thought. “I want no children, Pei K’ung. Indeed, it shall be a marriage in name only. There will be no physical side to the relationship. But you will help me, understand? You will share my duties and take some of the ceremonial burden from me. Is that clear?” For some reason she had frowned.
“Yes?”
“Why me, Chieh Hsia? There are a hundred other princesses you might have chosen, all of them far prettier. So why me? Are you punishing yourself, Li Yuan?”
He laughed. “Master Nan said you spoke plainly. But I like that. I think we’ll get on well. But let me answer you candidly. I chose you because you have no brothers to complicate matters—no scheming hordes of relatives to torment me with requests for favors. And because you are old.” She had smiled at that. “Old, Chieh Hsia?”
He blinked. “I mean . . .”
“Oh, I am not hurt by your words, Chieh Hsia. I see myself often enough in the mirror to know how I look. And as for your conditions ... I am agreeable to them. When is it to be?”
“Next week,” he’d said, looking to his Chancellor, who had witnessed everything with an expressionless face. “It shall be a private ceremony at Tongjiang. Close family, that’s all.”
She had waited, as if there was to be more, but that was it. Li Yuan had called her father back into the room and told him, and she had smiled again, more pleased for him than for herself. Yet in truth the matter had intrigued her. Why is he doing this? she’d asked herself, and What does he want from me?
In time, perhaps, she would know. In time the mystery of it—the sheer absurdity—would give way to a clearer view of things. But just then it had seemed peculiar, like the visit of one of the old immortals to confer a favor.
My life was ended, she told herself as she climbed the stairs to her room again. An hour ago there was nothing. And now . . . Now her life was about to begin. She paused on the turn and laughed with astonishment, hearing the roar of the imperial cruiser’s engines as it lifted from the House pad. Now, at thirty-eight, her life was finally about to begin.
chen stopped and turned, facing the young woman. “Well. . . this is it.
Are you coming in?”
Hannah tugged at a strand of hair, then made a shrugging movement of her shoulders. “It’s late. I really ought to be getting back.” Chen smiled, then patted her shoulder. “Come on. Have some ch’a, a bite to eat. Then you can go.”
“It’s your family, Chen. I’d feel. . . well, like an intruder.” “Nonsense. You’ll love Wang Ti. Besides, Karr will be there. He’ll want to know how we got on.”
She hesitated a moment, reluctance making her purse her lips, then,
relenting, she smiled. “All right. Half an hour. And then I must get
back.”
“Okay.” He grinned at her, then turned, punching the combination to the door.
They were all in the kitchen. As Chen came through, his youngest, Ch’iang Hsin, rushed at him, throwing her arms about his waist. “Daddy! You’re back!”
He hugged her, then looked about the room. Marie was there, sitting next to Karr, leaning in to him, while in a chair in the corner, a shawl about her shoulders, Wang Ti sat cradling Marie’s baby, a big smile lighting her features.
“Isn’t she a darling,” she said, lifting her face to Chen as he went over to kiss her. He crouched, peering into the bundle of blankets at the tiny baby girl. She had been born premature and grossly underweight, and even now, at five months, she was only half the weight she ought to have been. Chen took a long, heavy breath, then looked across to where his old friend sat, his arm about his wife. It was hard to believe that something so small and delicate had come from their union. If he’d thought of it at all he had pictured some giant of a son, stamped from the same mold as Karr and his mate, not this—this tiny miracle. “She’s so pretty,” he said, staring at the child once more.
“Isn’t she?” Wang Ti said softly. Then, looking past him: “So who’s this?”